Do Something
by Running For Anothers Dream
Summary: Something, anything, Todd isn't picky. He just doesn't want Pietro to keep hiding, lying, leaving. He just wants the other boy to do something.


1.

Pietro's fingers hit the top of the table, an incessant, rapid beat. His lips draw into a thin line, brows furrow, eyes focused on the clock. It is going slow, slow, slower even then it usually does, as though time is stopping just to mock him.

The teacher doesn't speak, just watches. Doesn't teach, just taunts, gaze flicking from one child to the next, before finally landing on the seat beside Pietro.

Todd fidgits.

Pietro's scowl deepens.

The clock gives another slow, drawn out _tock_.

"Tolensky," says the teacher, voice high and nasal. "Detention this evening."

2.

"The bastard didn't even give a damn reason!" fumes Pietro, dropping down into the seat beside Lance, feet curling beneath him as he does.

Lance turns the key and the jeep gives a low, painful groan. Metal scrapes against metal and a cloud of smoke billows from the exhaust pipe, but it starts after a moment, just like it always does. "I don't get why you're so surprised over this. They never give us any damn reasons!"

"But he was just sitting there! I mean usually Todd does something stupid to get himself in trouble like talk or sleep or smoke or, I don't know, blow spitballs maybe? Is that something he does? I bet it is, but that isn't the point. The point is he didn't do anything this time!" Pietro crosses his arms over his chest and sinks deeper into the leather seats.

Lance just shakes his head and wonders when Pietro began to notice what was going on with Todd.

3.

"Hold still," scolds Pietro, and his hands aren't gentle as he presses the damp rag to Todd's chin.

Todd leans back, swatts at Pietro with one trembling, bloodied hand. "Don't push so hard then! It fuckin' hurts, damnit!"

Pietro scowls and the look is not becoming on his face, marring the smooth skin. "Maybe you shouldn't have let them beat the freaking crap out of you then!"

Because he knows full well that Todd could have stopped them. One flick of his leg, one kick, and it would have been done. There would be no more bothering Todd Tolensky.

But Todd just snorts and looks away, like he always does on these dark nights. "I wasn't payin' attention, yo. They snuck up on me."

A lie, and they both know it.

4.

Todd wraps bandaged arms around Pietro and gives a low sigh, chin resting on the shorter boys shoulder. "This blows, dawg."

Pietro purses his lips together, doesn't say anything.

"I'm so fuckin' tired of not bein' able to hang with you," mutters Todd, lips moving to press against the pale skin of Pietro's neck.

Pietro closes his eyes, can't say anything.

Those lips move up, along Peitro's throat, his jaw, pressing their lips together in a brief kiss. "Half the time I don't even get ta fuckin' see ya."

Pietro lets his hands settle in tawny hair, tries not to even think.

It doesn't work very well.

5.

There are people pointing and jeering and Todd is in the middle, all wide eyes and pale skin. His amber gaze glances over the faces that surround him, try to peer past them, desperately searching - and Pietro knows they are looking for him, that he is waiting for help, but what can he do?

Everything. He can do everything, can get the younger boy out of there, save him some nasty bruises and maybe a cut or two.

But what does he do?

Nothing. Because there are so many people around and he is already judged for so much, doesn't want to be judged for this too.

6.

"You just left," spits out Todd, and a moment later he is spitting out a mouthful of blood. Bruised eyes look at his would-be could-be boyfriend with such anger, such hatred, and Pietro has no arguement.

It's the truth, after all. He did leave. Shouldn't have, but did.

"I came back though, see?" Pietro motions to himself, to the empty hall they are standing in. Tries so hard to smile but it is shakey and uneven and still unfitting of his face.

"After it was over," says Todd, bitterly. He shoves shaking hands in the pockets of his jeans, tries hard not to wince when torn knuckles brush the rough fabric. "No point in you bein' here now, dawg. Might as well just leave."

"But-"

"Just leave me the fuck alone," snaps Todd, and are those tears in his eyes? On his cheeks? Mixing with dirt and blood and, yes, that's exactly what it is and it feels like a knife has just been shoved deep into Pietro's chest.

He's never seen Todd cry before. Now, he wishes he never did.

7.

They don't speak. Even at home, where they used to banter and joke and laugh, and maybe sit a little closer then they should have on the couch.

Todd has nothing to say to Pietro, evidently. For his part, Pietro just cannot think of what words to use, because there is so much that needs to be said outloud -

_i'm sorry and i love you and please please please dont leave me i dont want to be alone anymore_

- but every time that he goes to speak, his tongue turns to lead and Todd just gives him this cold stare, gets up and leaves the room.

So they don't speak. Eventually, they don't stay in the same room as the other, either.

Pietro thinks it's a little easier this way.

8.

Pietro doesn't know what makes him walk home that day. Just that the sky is blue and the weather nice, finally warm enough out that he doesn't feel the need to wear a jacket, and a quick stroll through the park sounds like such a nice idea.

A bad idea now, he realizes, because he recognizes that mop of blond hair even before he sees the bright red jacket. Then, he catches sight of two other boys, older and bigger and stronger, and is that a bat one of them has?

More importantly, is that Todd standing just a few feet away from them?

Yes, yes, yes, and Pietro is moving before he thinks, because he can't leave again, not this time, and his hands slam into Todd at the same time the bat slams down hard on his shoulders.

Pietro screams, hits the ground.

Todd's gaze turns to ice, he lunges.

9.

"You broke his shoulder?" echoes Pietro, tone more questioning then he meant for it to be.

Across from him, Todd just shrugs. There's blood on his cheek and, for the first time in a very long time, it isn't his own.

"But - I just," Pietro's tongue feels leaden again, and he has to stop and make himself take a deep breath. Picks his words carefully, forms them slowly. "You never fight them!"

Another shrug, and Todd leans further into the couch. When he speaks, his words are simple and matter of fact. "They ain't never tried to hurt you before."

10.

It is busy and the middle of lunch, everyone too caught up in their own conversations to notice Pietro stand up. His chest hurts, like someone is beating against it, trying desperately to crush it and his heart, and maybe that would be better.

Would definately be better.

Only thing that could be better is sitting back down but that isn't an option. Not now, not this time, and he is halfway through the cafeteria when someone calls his name.

Evan, he thinks, but it may be someone else. Pietro isn't certain. He is certain though that there are eyes on him now, and the thought makes him stumble.

"Hey, watch it!" says Todd, grabbing him by the shoulders and stopping his fall. Moves to brush his shirt off and then stops, pulls away.

Pietro reaches out and pulls him back. Then, he kisses him.


End file.
